


Day 16: Pinned Down

by Drvivc (Fight_Surrender), Fight_Surrender



Series: Whumptober 2019 [10]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Future Snowbaz, M/M, Married Couple, Post-Canon, Whumptober 2019, happy snowbaz, married snowbaz, way past Carry on and Wayward Son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 07:22:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21370348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fight_Surrender/pseuds/Drvivc, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fight_Surrender/pseuds/Fight_Surrender
Summary: “You caught butterflies in a net, murdered them with chloroform, then pinned them down on wood for fun?”- It's 20 years down the road, give or take. Simon finds Baz's childhood collection while they're nosing around in the Grimm-Pitch estate attic.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Whumptober 2019 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538212
Comments: 10
Kudos: 94





	Day 16: Pinned Down

**Simon**

“It’s a 2002 BMW Z4, Metallic bleu with an orange seat,” Baz says, while strolling through the cavernous attic. He’s poking under tarps and blankets looking for his prize.

The magic is coming back to Hampshire. It’s nowhere near full strength yet, but there’s enough now for weekend visits. We bring the kids over from time to time so they can have some grandparent time and we can have a break.

“They still make them, you know,” stores exist, I remind.

“Yes, but this one is special. This one was mine,” Baz replies while scooting past an ancient armoire.

“I’m sure Ollie will love riding it once we clean all the rat droppings off of it,” I say, running my finger across the thick layer of dust on top of an escritoire. This is Baz’s influence. After all these years together, I can now identify eighteenth century furniture. I roll the dust into a ball between my fingers and flick it away. How many years has it been? Almost twenty? They’re passing so fast. I can’t even keep up with the kids’ ages. Ollie is three, Nat is five—no six, she just had a birthday. How can I forget that monstrosity? Nerf guns and pink balloons. The stuff of nightmares.

I look over at Baz, he’s thumbing through what looks like an old Watford Memory book. I imagine it’s his parents’. There is a faint streak of silver cascading through Baz’s hair now, catching the light. He plucked the wayward filigrees when they first appeared, but finally gave up. He decided to embrace Fiona’s DNA. Fine creases dance at the corners of his eyes. He’s still so lovely though. I sigh, Baz even ages gracefully, the tosser.

A collection propped on an old bookshelf draws my eye. “What in blazes is this, Baz?”

He strides over to examine my find. He takes it from me and blows away a layer of dust. “That’s my butterfly collection.”

He says it like you’d say, “that’s my razor,” or “that’s my stapler.” Completely nonchalant, like he’s not holding a piece of wood with dead bugs pinned to it. Like this isn’t exceedingly weird and excessively endearing.

“Baz.” I say, trying not to laugh. “You collected butterflies?”

“Yes,” he looks down his nose at me. “I had a kit. I bet the net is around here somewhere. I caught them, gassed them with chloroform then mounted the specimens. I actually can’t believe the spells have held this long, they’re still in pristine condition.”

“You caught butterflies in a net, murdered them with chloroform, then pinned them down on wood for fun?” Mirth. I am filled with mirth. My eyes are shining with it. This is gold. I suppress giggles.

“It was a hobby,” Baz says, lowering his eyebrows at me. “I refuse to let you make me feel bad about my idyllic childhood.”

_Minus the murder of your mother and you being Turned into a vampire. But we’ll ignore that bit for now._

“You really were as gay as a maypole from the day you came out of your mum, weren’t you?”

“Collecting butterflies is not gay, Snow.”

“Collecting butterflies is well gay, Baz.”

“Fine,” Baz concedes, setting down his collection and sliding his arms around my waist. “I was born gay and preordained to love only you.”

“Preordained, huh?” I return his embrace and pull him closer. “I _was_ prophesied.”

“You are the chosen one, Simon Snow.” Cedar and Bergamot. “Every day, without hesitation and with my whole heart, I choose you.”

“I’m so glad you did, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch-Snow.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Podfic of Day 16: Pinned down by drvivc](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23301619) by [tbazzsnow (Artescapri)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artescapri/pseuds/tbazzsnow)


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